Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Making Perfume out of Rain
One of my favorite childhood memories takes place at a quaint bed and breakfast somewhere in East Texas. I've been reminded of it several times recently, and now that I take a closer look, I find myself learning a new lesson from the six-year-old Scarlet.
Duende
"The Duende is a power, not a work. It is a struggle, not a thought." -Garcia Lorca
I don't know exactly what I'd like to say about Duende. Except that it hurts and feels good at the same time, that it comes from below, creeps up through the soles of your feet, that it is a source of agonizing inspiration for the artist. I am enthralled by its existence. I am awakened by its fire.
I don't know exactly what I'd like to say about Duende. Except that it hurts and feels good at the same time, that it comes from below, creeps up through the soles of your feet, that it is a source of agonizing inspiration for the artist. I am enthralled by its existence. I am awakened by its fire.
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